


Gamzee's First Human Christmas

by krazieLeylines



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Background Relationships, First Christmas, M/M, New Earth, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Canon, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9070564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krazieLeylines/pseuds/krazieLeylines
Summary: This is a Christmas gift for cinder!! Merry Christmas, my friend!Summary: After returning to New Earth with Vriska and the others, Gamzee experiences his first human Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinderrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderrain/gifts).



> I'm really sorry this is late. I wrote this entire fic before, and then accidentally lost it when trying to cut/paste it into ao3 yesterday. So I had to rewrite it from the beginning.
> 
> Also, Karkat lives with Dave and Jade here, as in the canon credits scenes. It's up to you whether the relationship between any of them is platonic or romantic. I personally headcanon them as a romantic ot3, but I didn't want to force that into this fic, since it's supposed to be focused on the delicious pale gamkar.

It was seven in the morning, the time that everyone had agreed upon. Dave and Jade were downstairs already, Karkat knew. He, on the other hand, stood posed on the edge of the stairs with Gamzee.

It had been five months since Gamzee had stumbled back into his life, trailing along with Vriska and the others. Aradia had decided to let him tag along on a whim, and she assured everyone that he was harmless now. Though, sometimes it felt more like Gamzee was dead instead. He would slink around the dark, and shrink away from anything too bright or loud. For five months, Gamzee has been living up in their guest room, mute, haunted, and slouched like he was always one second away from huddling into a fetal position.

Karkat didn’t know why he agreed to bring Gamzee into his hive. Terezi had suggested it, of all people, and she had sounded so serious. 

The very first night Gamzee had slept over, Karkat had locked the door from the outside, just in case. No matter how confident Aradia had been about him not being a threat, Karkat knew he would never sleep otherwise.

Turns out, Karkat didn’t get much sleep anyway. Gamzee kept everyone up with his screaming. It seemed he could not lay down without being assaulted with nightmares.

And while Gamzee was tormented by night terrors, Karkat began to dream vivid visions of another time, another life. A life in which Gamzee and him had been together, moirails, and Karkat had frequently slept in Gamzee’s obnoxious pile of horns, curled up under his arm. A life in which Karkat had cared for Gamzee more obsessively than a lusus for their grub: brushing the tangles from his hair, sneaking him food from the kitchen, helping him wash his face in the morning and night, applying his face paint, and later taking it off. 

The dreams were far too vibrant to be anything but memories. Karkat couldn’t really explain why, exactly. Perhaps it was a Vantas thing, or maybe it was because he was a hero of blood. Either way, like the Signless, he was beginning to remember a different life.

And little by little, Karkat began chipping away at Gamzee’s demons, coaxing him out of his mental isolation.

It was all too familiar. Karkat hardly had to think about it, how to get Gamzee to tilt his head so he could file the inner side of a horn, how to hold Gamzee’s fingers just so, so that he didn’t flinch back when Karkat tried to clip his claws, how to stroke a line between his eyes so that he’d fall asleep. Though Karkat was just beginning to remember parts and bits of his past life, it was clear that his body had never forgotten. 

Now, five months later, Karkat was about to test the culmination of all his hard work.

Gamzee kept huddled in the dark shadows of the hallway, seemingly unready to descend just yet. At least there was some meat on his bones, now. Karkat moved his finger pads over the soft part of Gamzee’s wrist. Gamzee was gripping the railing tight, his knuckles paled from lack of blood.

Nothing was said, but after a long moment, Gamzee relaxed his death grip. He lifted his other hand, and allowed Karkat to knit their fingers together.

“Let’s go,” Gamzee croaked, his voice crackling from misuse. 

Without another word, Karkat took the first step down the stairs. Gamzee followed behind him, face tilted away so that his hair curtained over his eyes. The guilt in Gamzee was buried deep, and it would take many more months – perhaps even years – for Karkat to dig it all out.

The stairs creaked underneath them softly, but it sounded much louder in the stillness of the early morning.

When they rounded the bend, Karkat looked immediately into the living room, where Dave and Jade sat at the couch. He could see them quite clearly, due to his nocturnal sight. As per Vantas-Strider-Harley house tradition, neither of them had changed out of their pajamas. Dave was in a fuzzy onesie with an embarrassing festive pattern, as was the norm, while Jade was in a cute oversized tee and squiddle boxers. The warm glow of the fireplace and Christmas lights danced across their wary faces.

They were nearly as worried as Gamzee, Karkat would bet. But that didn’t stop Jade from smiling at Gamzee when he came into sight. She stood up, remembering Karkat’s request to move slowly and calmly as not to spook the clown. “Merry Christmas, Gamzee,” she whispered across the room.

Karkat’s eyes were trained on Gamzee, observing every micro-movement in his face, posture, and fingers. He watched Gamzee’s lips wobble, ever so slightly, as if he was suppressing a sob. 

It was clear Gamzee was going to need some encouragement, so Karkat elbowed him under the ribs. That did the job.

“M-merry Christmas,” Gamzee blurted out.

For a moment, all Karkat could hear was the muffled sound of flames crackling behind the glass panes of the fireplace. He noticed that Gamzee was holding onto his fingers tighter. _One day, everything will seem normal again_ , Karkat reminded himself. One day. But when?

“We brought in a chair for you,” Jade broke the silence with her usual forceful cheer, “and set it by the fireplace, so you won’t get cold.”

“Ngh,” Gamzee said. Or at least, that is what it sounded like. It was a strangled noise, and didn’t exit his mouth all the way. 

Karkat felt Gamzee’s weight being pressed into his side, and he suddenly realized what his moirail wanted. “Can we take the couch instead?” Karkat asked, “I think Gamzee would feel warmer cuddled up with me.” _And safer_ , but he didn’t say that part.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Jade put her palm to her forehead, and Karkat knew she was silently berating herself for not considering that sooner. 

“I call the chair by the fire,” Dave added quickly.

Karkat felt some of the knots in his back ease. Dave was very good at defusing situations with humor. 

It took a few minutes for everyone to get settled down where they wanted to be. Gamzee and Karkat took the couch, tangled up around one another, with Karkat’s legs in Gamzee’s lap, and Gamzee’s head on Karkat’s shoulder. It was a weird position, like Gamzee was trying to curl himself into a crescent moon around Karkat.

Across the coffee table, Jade sat in the sofa, and Dave lounged out sideways on the chair by the fire. 

“Warm enough?” Jade asked Gamzee.

Karkat felt Gamzee’s even breath puff against his neck. Was the clown chuckling silently? “Snug as a grub in a lusus’s hug,” Gamzee answered easily, and for a moment Karkat got an inkling of how things could be someday: comfortable and easy.

“I guess I’ll pass out gifts this year,” Jade said, pulling herself forward in her seat so she could reach under the Christmas tree. She read the tag, and smiled. “To Gamzee, from Karkat,” she read. It was quite clear she had picked that one first on purpose, and she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Gamzee _was_ chuckling, quite audibly this time. Still low, still a bit broken, but audible just the same.

Everyone straightened up a bit more as Gamzee began to unwrap his present. The tips of his claws plucked at the ribbon at the top, trying to tease it undone. He was being gentle; too gentle. The sun would set and rise again before Gamzee had finished, at the rate he was going. It was as cute as it was unbearably frustrating to watch.

“No need to be so fucking goddamn gentle,” Karkat finally interjected, “No one cares if you just… tear into it.” He said this knowing what a sore spot this was for Gamzee. Gamzee hadn’t been as gentle with his hands and nails in the past.

Gamzee hesitated at first, but then his shoulders set more firmly. With Karkat’s encouragement, he began to slice the wrapping paper and bow apart. 

Tear by tear, the gift’s front cover was unveiled. Karkat knew it by heart, from all the hours he slaved over it. 

The title was “Another Time, Another Life”. The letters were cut from fabric and glued onto the cover. Flat diamond charms – in purple and red – ran down the face in pinstripe columns. 

Gamzee went to open the cover, but Karkat put his hand down on his before he could.

“Uhhh,” Karkat said. He had acted without really thinking, and had to take a second to collect his thoughts. “Before you open this, I just want you to know. This is kind of a group gift. Jade, Dave, Rose, Calliope… they all helped me put this together. It’s called a scrapbook. Um.”

Fuck, he should have prepared what he was going to say! Karkat pulled his hand back. “Maybe… you should just look through it.”

The confusion was written clearly across Gamzee’s furrowed brows. But he didn’t say anything, just turned his attention back to the scrapbook and opened up to the first page.

The first page had three photos. All three featured Gamzee and Karkat, posing together for the camera.

Karkat stared intently at the clown’s eyes, nose, mouth, forehead… just trying to decipher Gamzee’s expression. Gamzee seemed shocked, to say the least. Like he had the air punched out of his lungs. His eyes darted across the page, from photo to photo, searching for answers.

“I… I don’t…” Gamzee mumbled.

Karkat touched Gamzee’s chin, and waited for his moirail’s full attention. “Calliope had this book,” Karkat said, “Rose’s journal, given to her by you. I’m not sure exactly where it came from, which timeline, and where’s it’s been. It had been… disfigured, pages missing and paragraphs blotted out with ink. But, with alchemy, we were able to restore several of its previous incarnations.”

Gamzee’s expression was no less puzzled. In fact, it had taken on a twist of sadness. He didn’t like to discuss or even acknowledge the game.

“These pictures of from a different timeline,” Karkat continued his explanation, “The timeline that I keep dreaming about. And you wrote notes around them, in the original journal, documenting our time together. Notes you eventually erased. So I wanted to do the same for you, to show you bits and pieces of what had been, in another life.”

There was so much tenderness in Gamzee’s wet eyes now. Tears ran down the curve of his cheeks. “Karkat,” he gasped. The love in his voice was palatable. Gamzee hugged the scrapbook to his chest, and started to hiccup through his crying.

“The photos are just one part of the gift,” Karkat added, “I know… I know you’ve been confused, wondering why I’m letting you stay with us. I know you don’t know where you and I stand, and whether I intend our relationship to be temporary. I know I was confused at first, especially when I started having my dreams. But when Rose brought these photos to me, it… it solidified everything I already knew. I’m no longer so scared about the future… our future. I want you to feel the same way. So… I want you to look at these pictures, when you have your doubts. I want you to have peace of mind.”

Karkat finished rambling, and realized that somewhere along the way, he had begun crying, too.

Gamzee crushed Karkat into his chest, squeezing the breath out of him with an intense, emotional embrace. The scrapbook was caught between them, the corners digging uncomfortably into Karkat’s shoulder. Still, he couldn’t bear to shift away from Gamzee one inch. He could feel Gamzee’s desperation for Karkat’s words to be true, could feel how Gamzee was almost trying to pull Karkat inside of himself.

They spent a long ten minutes like that, grasping at each other and crying. Jade and Dave went off to grab some coffee and bring back breakfast.

No one spoke for a long, long time.

Gamzee was the first one to break the silence. “Thank you,” he said, blubbering into Karkat’s hair, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” Karkat replied.

“I love you.” Gamzee’s voice shook. “I love you, too.”

Dave cleared his throat. “Hey, the eggs are getting cold,” he said, “Everything all cool?”

Karkat and Gamzee took a minute to recompose themselves. Karkat wiped the tears from Gamzee’s face. They traced each other’s smiles. “Yeah, we’re cool,” Karkat answered, his tone lovesick.

The moirails rearranged themselves so it was easier to balance plates on their knees. Jade handed out the plates and silverware, and Dave poured aj into everyone’s glasses. For a while, the room was filled with the sound of clacking forks and knives, chewing and slurping, and the occasional sniffle from the trolls. It was a perfectly comfortable silence.

They were all going to be okay.


End file.
